Ok so a few times a year sevta demands a girls night with Ilya.
âKak my privykli, Ilyushka, pozhaluystaâ she will beg and really itâs just a show, Ilya trying to act like he canât go (saying heâs too old, itâs too hard, he has to be at home with his husband ! Sveta hes a KEPT man now) because Ilya does love going out with his Sveta, his bright gorgeous girl, there for him for so much, for all of it.
And Shane, well Shane actually loves it, encourages it, knows that Ilya finds joy in being out, around others, in being a light in a busy room, dancing, being another body under lights and swelling music. He doesnât covet it like he used to, when he was younger and lonely and looking for someone to fill something to deep and empty.
But Shane can see the light in his eyes after, when heâs a little hungover sat with Sveta at the bench in their kitchen eating greasy breakfast rolls and orange juice and talking over each other to tell Shane stories of their night- slipping in and out of Russian (and Shane sees something young in him, like that, in a hoodie with wet curls from an shower, brushing shoulders with Sveta who is in one of Ilyaâs tshirt, hair up out of her bare face, giggling and poking fun at Ilya, tutting and wiping egg off his cheek and calling him âso messy. Rude little boy!â And Ilya pouting and slapping at her hands. It breaks open something in Shaneâs chest, to see his boy happy! Radiant in it and safe, with his family (his Sveta) it restores a part of him that knows Ilya lives for so long with so much misery pressing down down down on him).
However, itâs not just the hungover days- the house full with Ilya and Sveta and their loud happy chatters and usually quiet cosy mid afternoon naps, or the evening when Sveta will demand time with shane and shoo ilya away- cook with shane as they chat about hockey and their lives and their ilya- that are his favourite. Itâs not even the quiet evenings after Ilya and Sveta have left in a hurry to their uber and Shane can take a long bath and watch whatever Ilya has deemed âtoo boringâ to watch with him that week. Heâll eat a dinner Ilya would call âblandâ and be in bed before 10pm, his weighted blanket on, and his ocean noises on full blast.
No Shaneâs most favourite part of Ilya having his girls nights is when his husband gets home. Shane doesnât stay up, not when he knows Ilya wonât be able to help but wake him. Because when Ilya comes home from being out now, he comes home hungry for him. Starving. Ilya comes home like a puppy whose owner has been away for months and is now finally home. Shane is kind of obsessed with it.
His needy condition is a mix of many things, but mainly Between being tipsy (or very drunk, itâs a scale) or maybe high, as well as being around people who âarenât Shaneâ all night (a direct Ilya quote) and remembering how it used to be, before Shane- Ilya had whispered this confession into the quiet dark of their bedroom, after the second âgirls nightâ ever- he had crawled on the soft carpet until he was knelt beside Shaneâs side of the bed, jacket stripped off and in the hamper because heâs a good ! Husband thank you and dirty clothes go in the hamper. Especially club clothes.
Heâd reached with cold hands to tug the covers down, and leant in to press his face toward the warm of Shaneâs soft warm belly under the covers. Shane had woken up to Ilyaâs cold nose at his bellybutton, startled with a small flinch and then his hand had found Ilyaâs thick curls. âIlya?â Heâd slurred out soft and low and he could feel Ilya muttering against his stomach, kissing and nuzzling at the soft skin.
âYou ok?â Heâd asked and Ilya had nodded hard and fast and Shane had smiled but then heâd felt a shiver roll through Ilya, a muffled choked tiny sound and heâd pulled at Ilya, dragged his face up to him as quickly as his tired body could. âWhats wrong? Why arenât you in bed?â Shane had whispered, trying to wake up- trying to understand.
âOutside clothesâ Ilya had answered solemnly. Like quoting a law. âOkay. You ok? You have fun?â Shane asked voice scratchy, swallowing hard as he tried to orientate. He had finally got his tired eyes half squinting open and Ilyaâs face had been right in front of him, heavy brow and serious wet eyes and Shaneâs heart had tugged as if caught on a fishhook, reeling to chase after what had made his husband look so sad.
âHey, hey, what happened? Are you? Is everyone ok? Is Sveta alright?â Shaneâs questions has tumbled tumbled out as he touched his fingertips gently over Ilyaâs cheeks, ache in his chest at his baby looking so horribly sad and mixed up.
âShanyaâ Ilya had said seriously, and Shane shifted his hand to rub his thumb between Ilyaâs eyebrows. âYes baby?â Heâd whispered low, other hand rubbing at the back of Ilyaâs neck. He had looked like a little kid in trouble, knelt by the bed with wide sad eyes. âYou areâ he swallows hard, blinks and sniffles âmy Shaneâ he exhaled and Shane answered soft âyesâ automatic- Ilya nods âTy â moya dushaâ he rumbles. âSoul soul soulâ Ilya had repeated. âMineâ he had said and pressed his lips to Shaneâs forehead.
âMy boy, moy malen'kiy fonarik, sent from Mama for my heartâ Ilyaâs voice had been so thick with emotion. It had made Shaneâs stomach turn even if heâd only caught half the Russian words.
âYours Ilya, always. Since I was a teenager since I first saw you hm?â Shane had reassured him, pulled Ilyaâs face into his neck and stroked his hand over the back of his soft hair, over and over through his thick curls. âYesâ Ilya had muttered into Shaneâs neck. âSince then. Forever for us. Alwaysâ his words thick and stumbly, more heavily accented than usual.
âOkay, okay babyâ Shane had whispered, kept Ilya tucked close, his mouth against Shaneâs pulse. After a moment Ilya had pulled back, put his mouth to Shaneâs chin and whispered so that his mouth moved against the skin.
âI was so, lonely for very long yes? You filled those empty spots. I know, now I do not have these holes now in my heart. But tonight reminded me of when I did. I was very lonely without you. My Shane. My husbandâ Shane was sure his heart was going to push right out of his chest in his ache to comfort his Ilya. God. His sweetheart.
âNot anymore. Not anymoreâ Shane had replied and thought to himself I was so lonely too. So lonely in so many ways without you. He doesnât say that, tells Ilya he loves him instead, in English in Russian, over and over and over. Finally Ilya had seemed to settle, something in his face soothing out. Shane had kept kissing at his face anyway. Shane had gotten then into the shower after then back to bed, curled around Ilya his chest to his boys back and breathed with him, hand rubbing over his heart until heâd gone back to sleep.
Ilya had been so shy in the morning, avoidant and quiet, embarrassed. It had been smoothed away in soft kisses eased into soft conversation Ilya with his back to Shane until the most uncomfortable parts had been peeled back. After theyâd talked, whisky had been banned from girls night (and ever, Shane hadnât seen Ilya that lost in a long time). But since the Whisky Incidentâ˘ď¸ and Ilya realising how much he could drink on his meds before his happy buzz tilted the wrong way. Now, now Ilya was always a happy, buzzy or sleepy little puppy coming home to Shane, pawing at him, ready for attention. Shane loved it.
Even when Ilya woke him up from his sleep he couldnât find it in him to be mad when Ilya would beam when Shaneâs eyes met his, big toothy smile, his quiet sweet little âHelloooo Shanyaâ as he flopped himself onto Shane like a big dog that thought it could still be a lap puppy. He always showers first, because the rule is no outside clothes on the bed- strictly. And so he crawls over Shane smelling like soap and a beer still a bit and a bit damp and so overjoyed to be home. To be in their bed.
And anyway ! So, itâs one of these girls nights, and Shane is sound asleep when Ilya and Svetlana get home, heâs sound asleep on his stomach, Anya curled at the end of the bed. He stays asleep, up until Ilya closes the bathroom just a bit too hard and Shane wakes between one breath and the next, nuzzles his face into the pillow and listens to Ilya shower, the rush of the water and Ilya brushing his teeth, the sound of the ensuite door clicking back open, of Ilyaâs soft, clumsy footsteps towards the bed.
Shane had missed him that night, sometimes the peaceful nights were nice but theyâd both had a busy week and between social calendars and brand deals and charity work and a visit to Shaneâs parents they hadnât had much time just them that week. It feels silly now, all these years on when they get so much time together compared to the decade plus apart time they faced. Now they live and play and exist together but Shane still misses him. Sometimes he misses him just when he goes to the next room, itâs kinda embarrassing. But he knows Ilya misses him the same. He thinks itâs maybe just the horrible amount of love they are in. So Shane rolls over, shrugs away the covers to hold one arm out and mumbles a sleepy âcâmereâ.
Shane smiles into his pillow when he hears the happy sound Ilya lets out. âZaychik!â Ilya calls in delight, and then heâs crawling up on the bed, into the open covers and pressing his whole body to Shaneâs. He presses his face into his neck and is kissing kissing kissing all over the warm skin, his hands up and down his sides, over his lower back and ass and hips. Finding the shape of him again like it had been days not hours.
âI did not mean to wake you I am very sorryâ Ilya whispered voice slurry sweet and he pushes his nose against Shaneâs ear, kisses at his earlobe.
âI tried to be very quiet. Promiseâ he whispers and Shane wraps his arms around Ilya, pulls him in tight to him, squeezes him.
âYou need your beauty sleep I knowâ Ilya mumbles and bites at Shaneâs jaw, chin, apple of his cheek.
âAnd yet you snack on meâ Shane grumbles and it doesnât deter Ilya, biting away on Shane.
âBut mâstarving. My husband says McDonaldâs is bad for me so I do not getâ Ilya says and drags his teeth over Shaneâs Adamâs apple, makes him shiver.
âI was trying to be quietâ Ilya says then and kisses Shaneâs nose. âFor realâ he says with a big eyed blink and then drags his nose over and against Shaneâs in a few nuzzles.
âI knowâ Shane says then and shifts a little, so he can be on his back and Ilya can lay up over to of him, elbows on either side of Shaneâs head, a nice weight on top of him.
âSâok, missed youâ Shane exhales as Ilya rubs his cheek over Shaneâs, before turning his face to find his mouth. They kiss soft and small, drags of their lips until Ilya licks into his mouth to taste him.
âMissed you more. Horribly. Trapped at the bar when my beautiful wife is at home. Waiting for my returnâ Ilya whispers between their kisses and Shane snorts into his mouth, tugs at his curls.
âYou have fun though?â Shane asks, checks, because he wants to know, whatâs to know how their hours apart were, what made Ilya happy, what made him laugh, if he was good.
Ilya nods, âyes, good music, good dancing, good sevtaâ Ilya shrugs and shoves his face into Shaneâs throat, collapses his whole weight down on Shane.
âBut whole time I am thinking of my wife with her freckles and her pretty eyelashes and strong fucking legs and her in her panties in our bed, and how she is more beautiful than anyone in this barâ Ilya whines and Shane laughs, shoulders shaking and wraps his legs around Ilyaâs hips.
âPanties huh?â Shane asks and Ilya nods, shoves his fingers under the waistband of Shaneâs black boxers. âYessss my favourite pairâ Ilya confirms and Shane rolls his eyes, rubs his cheek over Ilyaâs soft curls. There is a tired silence.
âSleep?â Ilya asks then with a big heavy sigh and Shane nods, kisses Ilyaâs forehead. âSleepâ Shane confirms, wraps his arms around his big heavy husband, flopped on his chest. The one that Ilya comes home to, everytime, the one he thinks of when he climbs into his uber to leave. His home.
âWaitâ Ilya says suddenly, as if remembering something important and pulls back, holds Shaneâs face in one hand and takes a minute to look at him, tipsy heavy blinks. His hand slides up and gently combs Shaneâs hair back out of his face, the soft strands that fall to either side of his forehead. His thumb rubs over his temple and his eyes make maps all over his face.
âAh. Just as I thought. You are. So crazy beautifulâ he sighs.
âJust needed to make sure nothinâ changed while I was goneâ Ilya smirks and leans in for one last kiss.
âIdiotâ Shane mutters, and then sucks on Ilyaâs bottom lip.
âLove youâ Shane breaths and Ilya echos it back.
They fall asleep like that, Ilyaâs fingers down Shaneâs boxers smushed on top of his husband, where he can feel his heart beat steady under his.
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whumpee who has whumperâs hand clasped over their mouth as theyâre tortured, muffling any screams or cries beyond recognition. whumper finally takes their hand off of whumpeeâs mouth only to say -
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At the vet. Just heard the tech say "Phoebe's early. Dad said she was sneezing all last week, and I do hear her coughing right now. But don't panic. He said she's been doing better over the weekend."
When the tech tells someone in the back not to panic, my cat dad alarm goes off. Very nice vet tech with neon blue hair, I really hope you were talking about somebody else. Also, maybe see about getting better soundproofing for the exam area in the back.
watching wlgyt and no man has ever mastered pathetic yearning like how gwan-sik has. they're so fucking cute, im 3 episodes in and this show already made me tear up once
